Once I hear the door slide shut with a soft snick, I turn my grin on Gideon, raising my eyebrows.
“Don't fucking start,” he grumbles, but his smile is so big I can see half of his teeth. He sinks into the couch cushions next to me like an oversized starfish, tossing his head back and grunting as his joints crack.
I glance pointedly at the clock.
“You've been gone for hours, that’s all. I guess you had a lot to talk about,” I tease him. “Maybe you had to go over thesensitivebits a few times andhammerout the details before you both weresatisfied.”
I block the throw pillow Gideon swings at my head, snatching it from him and tucking it under my arm.
“We cleared up our shit,” he says.
I hide a smile at that incredibly on-brand statement. Simple, to the point, and completely without details. Typical Gideon.
“That's good, man. I'm glad you worked it out. You both deserve to be happy.”
He lifts his head at that, a shadow crossing his face. “I'm worried about why her powers made her sick,” he says. “She doesn’t actually know whatshe is, so we’re flying blind here. I don’t like that.”
Uncertainty gnaws at my gut.
“We need information, but we have to be careful about how we get it or we’ll put her at risk.”
“I know,” he huffs, watching me closely. “I don't wantto say it, but...”
“Just don’t,” I groan, tugging on a loose string dangling from the pillow.
“Callum, come on.” Gideon whips out the tone he only uses when he thinks I'm being unreasonable.
I hold up a hand. I already know what he's suggesting.
“No, please. Don't say it.” I cover my head with the pillow. It’s childish, but I don’t want to hear?—
“We may need to go to the enclave. Bring our parents in.”
That. I didn’t want to hear that.
“Gideon, we justsaw my parents. Twice in one month is asking way too much,” I whine.
“What other options do we have? We can't just post about it online and hope we get some helpful replies.”
I remove the pillow, so Gideon can see me rolling my eyes at that ridiculous suggestion.
“They will beinsufferableif we ask for their help. You know that, right?”
“It might not be that bad,” he says. “Maybe they'll surprise you.”
He’s being ever so cheerful about this—probably because he just got laid and can't even imagine anything unpleasant.
“Oh,” I seethe. “That’s not the problem. They surprise me all the fucking time. Just never in a good way.” He doesn’t look convinced, so I bring out the big guns. “Seriously, do you think Sheena is ready to be tossed in the middle of that madhouse?”
“What madhouse?” Sheena asks, walking into the room with a smile.
It’s nice to see her relaxed. How can we explain this without?—
“We need to know what you are, so we can figure out why your powers made you so sick.” Gideon barrels in with all the finesse of a stampeding buffalo. My fingers twitch around the pillow. “Our parents might know something that can help.”
Sheena frowns, dropping down on the couch between us. As soon as she’s within reach, Gideon tugs her insistently to his side.
“But I don't plan to ever use my powers again,” she says, her forehead creasing as she mulls things over. “Why would I need to worry about the side effects?”
